Category Archive

Crazy. Busy. Week.

I want to crawl in a hole and hibernate and wake up about a year ago, but we’re drudging forward. We rounded out the craziness with a day at the 2nd International Babywearing Conference and some shopping with these fine ladies.

And then off to see David tattooing at Navy Pier. Not only is he in marathon tattoo mode, he’s practicing life as a jet setter as he hops on a plane this afternoon to fly to OH to see Tom Waits, only to come back on the first flight back after the show. Ahhh, the good life.

And now we’re off to have some fun and raise some money for these warriors (in pink). Xav wishes you all a very, um, contemplative day.

Girl and X photo’s by the amazing Crooked Eyebrow.

I’ve been practicing for tomorrow for quite some time and yet the anguish is inevitable. I’m trying to reconcile the celebration and pampering due to my dear, darling husband for the amazing Papa he is and my pain in celebrating Father’s Day for the first time without a Father myself. The only thing I know how to do is to let it be, let it come and take it one moment at a time.

Happy Papa’s Day. You are amazing. We love you so

I have a running list of countries I’d like to move to if ours continues to go down the tubes. If so and so gets elected, if our economy continues to fail, if things don’t change… Yes, I realize that nowhere is perfect, but lately I just feel like so much this place is billed on is a farce. An illusion. (This is where I want to get all Orwellian but don’t worry, I’ll try to keep it on the surface…)

I just realize more and more and more that we aren’t “free” and we sure as hell aren’t brave. Am I privileged to have been born here? Possibly. Was I, from birth, afforded opportunities that many people on this planet aren’t? Of course. Am I grateful for that? You bet. But that doesn’t mean that I just have to then, except this place. To put it on pedestal and proclaim to the masses that I love the good ol’ US of A and all it is.

As I examine what values and opportunities and environments we hope to raise our son with, it becomes crystal clear that this isn’t it. It isn’t shopping malls and distance. Politics and lies. Undercurrents of subversion, judgment and hate. And there it is, the clincher… HATE.

I think since 9-11, then this war, then this election, our “all inclusive, come-as-you-are” nation has revealed it’s true colors. And yet I feel gullible saying that. Perhaps it was always there and this is just the point in my life I opened my eyes to it. I guess it was always something I assumed people wised up to, grew out of. Silly me didn’t realize that little boy bullies grow up to have their toy guns turn real. That playground power morphs to the real thing that fuels hatred like wild fire. And there are so many ways… To hate on the basis of skin color or religion. To hate because of someone’s ability or disadvantage. To hate because of someone’s sexual orientation. To hate because of rumor. To hate because someone, somewhere, that looks like you hurt someone that is my 25th cousin and I. Will. Never. Let. You. Live. That. Down.

For Real?

And I as type this it seems so obvious. And I see that this isn’t where I meant this post to go. I digress, but I’m sobbing because this is one area that just doesn’t make sense to me. How is that rationalized?! To hear the profiles of just who “looks” like a terrorist, to hear the comments now that we have both a woman and black man contending to be our leader. My jaw drops often. Too often.

And it boiled to the surface on Memorial Day. I was outside on the deck with Xavier, “playing sand”, David was inside on my computer fuming over this clip; we had no sooner finished watching it, reacted (enraged!) and stepped back outside when some idiot drove past blaring “WHITE P*WER” on his radio. This, is our country, people.

I hope that this facet is the minority, but this undercurrent, this pulse, is throbbing. It’s dangerous. And there is a part of me that doesn’t see much hope for it changing here. We can pass more laws that preserve rights and dignities, but it will still remain. At the same time I see things like this and know that we aren’t alone. That this isn’t the only place this happens - IS happening. But I want nothing to do with it. In fact, I want to change it. And for whatever reason I see more hope in changing it elsewhere than here. Yet at this moment, here I am.

I don’t know how else to do that at this moment than with my vote. And if things don’t work out, then with our bodies.

A week ends and the rest begins. Saturday is our Monday so we’re launching off into busy-ness as the rest of you sigh and settle down. It’s a holiday though, which means after today, David has some time off and we get some always cherished family time. I’m hoping for some rest somewhere amidst the go, go, go. Maybe, just maybe. Today I’ve a photo gig, at a gorgeous park, with friends, and X will be strapped to my back. And then we’re off to a benefit for this amazing family. The days ahead are filled with birthdays and barbeque’s and lets hope, lots of sun. We’ll be in and out and all around and most likely over here a bit too much.

Have a great holiday, weekend, whatever!

I called my dad yesterday. It was one of those moments. A moment of unthinking in which I had the fleeting thought, of “Man, it’s been awhile…”

And of course it has, but not because we’ve been busy but because he’s gone.

I didn’t realize until someone answered. A man that wasn’t him.

Just a number reassigned on the other end of nothingness.

Steph at Adventures In Babywearing is asking us to show the shoes we couldn’t live without for this week’s photo tag… Shoe’s for me? Is it wrong that my 15 month old has more shoes than I do? I’m a big fan of going barefoot, but my classic favorite are some good ol’ Chucks

In the winter I love my Simple Surfer boots (They’re so cozy inside I can go sans socks!)

And in the summer it’s definitely flip flops for me

So there you have the year-round run down on my stinky feet!

Nearly 15 months. That’s how long it had been since hubby and I’d gone on a proper date. You know, just the two of us, chivalry, romance the whole 9 yards. I am lucky enough to be married to my best friend, but even so, after that long without any special time for us, it’s easy to start to forget just how much we like each other. To fall into the monotony of every day, to spend the few moments of togetherness we have each evening collapsed in front of the television, or stuck behind our respective computers. We made a conscious decision in becoming parents to be child-centered, to focus time and energy and resource into our baby boy and understandably that has removed time and energy from David and I. We’ve had little dates here and there, a candle-lit anniversary dinner (while my sister played with X upstairs), snuggling and movies (after Xavier was in bed), a game of cards or Scrabble (until our eyes glazed over). But we were starting to realize we really needed to put some more effort into us, not our Mama and Papa selves, but our fiery, flirty, madly-in-love, I-remember-you selves.

And so, Sunday we hatched a plan and for the first time ever entrusted Xavier’s care with someone else. Not just anyone of course- his beloved Grandmama, Grandpapa, Uncle Tim and Molly(dog) A huge step for me. There were a few tears (from me, Xavier happily waved bye-bye) and we set off. On our own. For the first time. In a long time. Instantly the tension melted away. We held hands and kissed and talked, and talked, and well I’ll leave a few things to the imagination. David opened doors for me and squeezed into the booth beside me as we feasted on Japanese delights. We took a walk, made each other laugh, made a stop for an impromptu silly gift exchange (I got a flashlight, low rider car and lint rollers). Just like old times. It was glorious. Much needed. Like falling in love all over again. Butterfly’s and all. We are buddies and lovers and soul mates (yes, I believe in such a thing). We compliment each other perfectly, but I’d started to forget…

We were only away for an hour or two and returned to find Xavier had as much fun as us. The delight in his eyes as we came up the walk was enough encouragement to do it all over again. And we will. Regularly. Today there is a bit more spring in our steps, broader smiles, warmer embraces. We are renewed and refreshed and reminded that we love each other more than ever. We needed it. Not to ‘get away’ from our son, but to put some undivided attention into us for a change- and when it’s all said and done, if we need an excuse, taking care of us is the best thing we can do for him.

Thanks baby

My dearest Stephanie, had the brilliant idea to focus this week’s photo tag on our baby bumps… Here is my favorite pregnant photo

We were in Rome. San Pietro I believe. David and I and our baby to be finally taking our dream honeymoon.

I was 6 1/2 months pregnant and unfortunately this is about as big as my belly was able to get. I know these here photo tags are supposed to be sunny, and I’ll try my best not to cloud up the parade too much, but this is a tough one for me…

One of the hardest parts of having a preemie is the loss of your pregnancy. Obviously your immediate focus is on the health and care of your baby. But when the dust settles you are left feeling a bit incomplete. Not many understand. Your baby was the point of that belly after all, so what’s the big deal? But it is difficult. Even on a biological level you are supposed to be pregnant for 9 months, my body, my mind was disrupted and confused. I delivered at 28 weeks, 1 day. I missed out on 12 weeks of pregnancy. My entire 3rd trimester. To this day I cringe when I hear a woman, 30 some weeks pregnant complain about how miserable and huge and uncomfortable she is, how much she wishes her baby would just come out already. I grieve what she takes for granted.

We know we want more children, and although I really know we’re not ready I have to consistently fight the want to be pregnant again. I loved every moment of being pregnant, I felt so comfortable, so beautiful. I look forward to someday completing a pregnancy. To loose sight of my toes, experience swollen ankles and have my belly button turn itself inside out seems heavenly… and at the same time, if I could manipulate history I wouldn’t change a thing.

Stephanie started this fun photo tag…. Since we’re mostly Mama’s why not see the women behind us all.

Here’s my whole family actually from looong ago. No clue where we are, but it looks like somewhere fun - my dad, little me (wasn’t I cute?!), my beautiful mom and my brother, Eric. I’ve always been told I look like my Dad but the older I get, looking back at pictures of my mom at my age, I see such similarity!

We’ve been through so much and still struggle at times, but she’s my mama and I love her…